


May, She Will Stay

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunters, Closeted Character, F/F, Femslash, Hunter Jessica, Making Up, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming back was probably a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May, She Will Stay

**Author's Note:**

> lazily written and lazily edited. implied homophobia. titled after april, come she will by simon and garfunkel.

The dusty ambiance of the Roadhouse feels like home as she pushes open the door. Two men whom she doesn’t recognize (but who bear a striking resemblance to a 60s folk rock duo) have a booth next to the billiard tables; other than them and Ellen, who is behind the bar, the Roadhouse is empty. Jess smothers her disappointment at Jo’s absence, but perhaps it’s for the best. Who knows what would happen if they happened to be in the same room again, and in the company of Ellen, too.

Coming back was probably a mistake, but before she can back out or make herself invisible, Ellen looks up and puts on a welcoming smile. “Well, howdy, stranger. Long time, no see.”

Jess sits down on a stool, grimacing with pain and apologies. “Sorry, Ellen.”

Ellen pours a neat whiskey and shoves it across to counter to Jess; she sips at it gingerly.

“What’s kept you away so long?” Ellen asks. Her tone is forcibly conversational, and her expression barely hides her curiosity. What did Jo tell her about Jess’ absence? Did she spare no detail or stay in the closet? Did she come clean or lie her ass off?

Testing the waters, Jess shrugs. Her muscles scream at her, but she ignores them for now. “Dunno. Is Jo around?”

Ellen shakes her head. “She stormed off about the time you did. She’s finishing up a job in upstate New York right now.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re letting her hunt? By herself?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘letting’,” Ellen scoffs. “Jo’s just as bullheaded as her daddy was. I can’t tie those folk down forever, much as I want to.”

The words sink slowly between them, and Jess sips again at her drink. She’s never been partial to drinking, especially without Jo or Sam to keep her steady, but the burning taste of whiskey reminds her of the past, so she tips back the last of the shot and swallows.

“You look like you could crash any second,” Ellen chides. Jess’ shoulders sink. “Go on and take Jo’s room. She won’t mind.”

God, fuck. Jess almost groans, but that isn’t how one speaks to Ellen Harvelle. “I don’t know. I’d feel really weird. We had this big fight before I left…. There isn’t, like, a couch I can take or something?”

“It’s reserved for Simon and Garfunkel over there.” Ellen jerks her chin in the direction of the other two patrons. Hearing that they’ve been mentioned, one of the men raises his glass and winks. “Harrison took out a tulpa in Texas this morning. And I don’t know what Egli’s doin’ here. Probably mooching offa Harrison.”

“Don’t you know it!” the man who winked exclaims.

Ellen rolls her eyes away from him. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Jess. Just take Jo’s bed. If she has a problem with it, she can take it up with me.”

“But I’m not begging,” Jess says. Even knowing arguing against Ellen Harvelle is useless, she tries to continue anyway. “I have a perfectly good backseat-”

“And I’ve got a perfectly good bed that _you_ _are_ going to use.” She stares sternly at Jess until she capitulates, head ducking down. Ellen fishes around in her apron pocket until she produces a key and slides it over to Jess. “Make yourself at home.”

Holding back another groan, Jess snatches up the key. She trudges up the stairs connecting the bar to the Harvelle’s living space, closes the door behind her, and falls face-first onto Jo’s bed. It smells dull; Jess doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or not. She misses the way Jo smells like alcohol and cleaning supplies when she’s been working, and the tropical fruit shampoo she uses in the morning; but perhaps it’s for the better that all she smells now is more dust.

She claws her way to rest her head on the pillow and pull the covers up over her. Belatedly she realizes she should have showered before collapsing into Jo’s bed, but she’s too tired to even lift her head right now. She’s barely recuperated after her last hunt before hightailing it to the Roadhouse. Her hands are covered in fresh lacerations from smashing into a window, and she’s pretty sure one of the goons left an Adidas-shaped bruise on her ribs.

Saving people makes it all worth it, though: every scratch, every concussion, every nightmare. Jess saved an eight year old girl from damning herself to Hell today. She saved an autistic man who sold his soul ten years ago to bring back his beloved cat Cocoa. Those people are alive and have a future because of Jess. It’s the best damn feeling in the world.

She drifts uneasily off to sleep. Her bruised ribs wake her up periodically, and Jess is close to digging around in the Harvelle’s medicine cabinet for something stronger than aspirin. Before she can muster the power to do so, though, someone enters the room, and the light turns on.

Jess bolts up, ignoring her ribs as they protest, and reaches beneath the pillow for a weapon that isn’t there. She’s prone and defenseless; her pulse hammers thunderously in her ears.

“What?” a familiar voice creaks. “Jess?”

Jess squints into the light, willing her eyes to adjust faster. “Jo?”

She looks different. It’s not because she bought new clothes or changed things up with her hair - it’s more than that: a roughness about her, a calculating edge Jess recognizes from other hunters. Jess is almost sad without having the right to be. She wasn’t there to see this growth and change happen in Jo, and now she doesn’t know who is standing in front of her. What happened to Jo since they saw each other last? Does she have new scars, new habits, new boundaries?

Jo falls onto her knees and surges forward to envelop Jess in her arms. Jess is too surprised and too happy to voice her bruises’ protests. She holds Jo firmly to her, inhaling her sweaty smell and not wanting to let go, but when Jo’s arms slacken, she acts accordingly. Jo doesn’t go far, though, still inside Jess’ personal space. Jess’ heart dances.

“What are you doing here?” Jo asks. Her hand makes an aborted move upward, but she replaces it on the edge of the bed before it can show its intentions. A frown puts itself on Jess’ lips.

“Your mom said I could.”

“No, not my bed. I mean, what are you doing here?”

Truth be told, Jess doesn’t know. Maybe she came here because this is the only stability she knows, or maybe she came here because of Jo, or maybe a monster worm in her head lured her to the Roadhouse to take out every hunter who passes by. She’s glad she’s here now, though.

She shrugs. “I don’t know.” Neither of them speak for several moments. “I miss you.”

Jo cracks a small smile. “I missed you, too. Jess, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she insists. Six months ago, it wasn’t, but now Jess doesn’t care. Jo is here right now, and Jess loves her. She doesn’t want to change her, she doesn’t want to force her into doing something she’s uncomfortable doing. It took them being apart for her to realize that, and even though Jess hated that time, maybe it was the most important part of their relationship. “Jo, I don’t understand, but I support you. One hundred percent. Even if you don’t think we should be together at all, I’ll never tell. Never. You need to know that.”

“I do. I know that.” Jo lays her hand on top of Jess’. “Thank you.”

They’ve never kissed unless they were behind a closed door, and Jess is keenly aware that the bedroom door is wide open, so if Ellen were to walk by and look inside, she would see her daughter and Jess kissing as softly as flowers, pouring their longings and apologies into this affection.

Jo rests her forehead against Jess’. “I just need more time,” she murmurs. “One day I’ll be able to do it. And I want you to be with me when that day comes.”

Jess snaps her gaze up from Jo’s nose and leans back an inch. “Really?”

Jo smiles. “Yeah, really.” She’s still smiling when she bends in for another kiss.

 


End file.
